


The Tomorrow Chronicles

by komagayda



Series: The Collective Unconscious [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Ice Skating, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Established Relationship, Gun Violence, M/M, Physical Disability, Rehabilitation, mlm author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-11-02 16:03:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10947930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komagayda/pseuds/komagayda
Summary: After five long years in statis, Yuuri Katsuki,patient zeroof theColleconmental preservation and enhancement system wakes up from his coma. Now, he and Viktor must face the challenges of adapting to the world as the man out of time.luckily, this is routine, contolled, something with a procedure to facilitate progress. Safe and tested.or so it would be, had two faces, so familiar even though they had never met in person, shown up on his doorstep with a desperate, pressing question..."Do you know about fun.hou.se?"





	1. rehab

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone, this is a sequel to my other sci-fi AU fic, _World's End Holiday_ so I strongly recommend reading that one first if you haven't since you might get a little lost and it calls back quite directly to the events of that one!

                Yuuri Katsuki opened his dark eyes, the world above him still bleary and hazy as he adjusted to the soft white light around him. It was dimmed so as to not be distracting, but still bright enough to allow him to see the sterile white room around him, the room in which he’d lived for the past year. It could’ve been worse, he supposed, living in the same bed for five whole years was definitely staler.

                It was the second time he had done so in an hour. The first time he had simply been too overwhelmed, sliding back into the delicate comfort of sleep. Not the deep, never-ending nothingness he had been thrust into for the past five years, but a hazy, floating sort of semi-somnolent state. He hadn't slept deeply since he first stirred back to life after shutting off the simulation.

                It was almost as though his brain was terrified of losing itself to a thick, rolling blanket of nihil once more. Honestly, he didn't blame himself at all for his wariness towards the concept of losing control of his consciousness, even for a brief few hours.

                He would have to bring it up with Dr.Giacometti once more when the man did his usual morning route and check up. Maybe he needed to re-evaluate the dosages of sleeping pills again.

                Until then, he dropped his head back onto the soft, fragrant white pillow, unsure about the current time. He thought back to the simulation, his mind buzzing as he remembered everything so vividly... and yet, despite the stakes, he hadn't really turned it off, he'd merely convinced himself that he had, and thus had it been made real within his cognition. a 50-50 chance of everything falling into place... he'd been reckless with not only his own life but Viktor's as well. it made him slightly queasy with guilt despite the fact that it had worked out in the end. His mind often drifted back to the world inside the computer when he was unable to sleep at night. The _deus ex machina_ that he had become still haunted him, it seemed, like the ghost of a person who had never been real.

                He yearned for Viktor's comforting touch, to feel the gentle cool of his artificial hand against his cheek, to hear the soft purr of his voice, slightly tinged with a Russian accent, an irremovable trace of his history... but mostly he wanted those strong arms around him, those warm and loving lips against his own, the strangely warm gleam of love and life in those blue eyes of his, so filled with softness and fondness as they met his own.

                Twin blue skies he could fall into forever.

                He sighed, a slightly huffy noise as he settled in the thick downy comforter. it was petty of him, but he was vaguely frustrated that most of their interactions had been more platonic since he'd woken up from his five-year kip. He understood, naturally, that they were not only in a professional environment but currently in a doctor/patient relationship despite the fact that Viktor had taken a few months to recover, his own physio regiment nowhere near as rigorous as Yuuri's... although he didn't have nearly as long to account for as the former IT consultant had.

                No, not an IT consultant. That had been something his mind had cooked up, trying to create something of a weak facsimile of a routine. Phichit had found it infinitely amusing when visitors had finally been admitted to the E Ward, and even more amused that his digital doppelganger had chastised him for not dreaming big enough.

                He didn’t find it nearly as amusing, but there was something about hearing the buoyant, clear sound of his best friend’s laughter that chased away any lingering bitterness or insecurity. Despite the years that had come and gone, his friend was still a cheerful, warm person who knew exactly what to say to coax a hesitant smile out of Yuuri.

                He still hadn’t been informed entirely of the dearth of changes that had occurred outside the white, sterile, ever-so-white walls of the Feltsmann Institute, presumably on the ever-so-frustrating conceit that he shouldn’t be overwhelmed. Catching up would be a game for later, starting later that very day. He’d finally been evaluated as being stable enough in his mental and physical functioning enough to be admitted to a small apartment on the premises, the basic living accommodation for employees. A three and a half room dorm of sorts that he would share with Viktor, who had been living there for the past few years. He felt his heart leap at the prospect, remembering how much work it had been to clear it by Viktor’s superior, a stern older woman named Lilia Baranovskaya, with piercing eyes that seemed to cut right through you and grey streaks in her dark hair. Her lips had been pursed as she looked them over, those intense eyes not tempered at all by the bright red frames of her cat-eye lenses. Finally, she sighed, muttering something about Yuuri at least being a person, as opposed to the ancient standard poodle that currently lived as Viktor’s flatmate.

                The real Makkachin, who as it turned out was just as goofy and lazy as the one they’d lived with in the dream world Yuuri and Viktor had constructed, judging by the inordinate amount of photos and videos Viktor had shown him in the short breaks between testing, psychological evaluations and endless physiotherapy sessions meant to not only get him accustomed to his new limbs but to the fact that his muscles had basically withered away to nothing, atrophying as he existed as a man out of time. As it turned out, his brain was much better at controlling the new constructs that acted as his hand and leg than the real deal was, and his movements were still incredibly laboured and shaky and would probably still be for years.

                It almost took him back to his final ride on the subway on Level 2. He never wanted to take the train again, so it was a blessing for him to live on-site at the Institute, which was still quite interested in seeing what he had to offer in their employ, provided the healing process go smoothly enough to allow him to start working at some point in the foreseeable future.

                It turned out Viktor immediately forgave him for basically shooting him in the head, which had honestly been quite a psychologically damaging act. Yuuri often woke up in a cold sweat, the sensation of his lover fluttering by as a whipping cloud of particles against his cheeks still burned into his skin. He would have to call Viktor, have him gently talk him down as he reminded him that both of them were living, standing, breathing and most importantly, together and alive because he had done it, that it hadn’t hurt at all, that he had immediately come to and shuffled over to Yuuri, his broken body collapsing at the bedside as he pleaded for him to wake up, only to feel pure elation and joy when his lashes fluttered open once more.

                He heard the gentle shuffling of Dr.Giacometti making his morning rounds, whistling a little tune as he went about to check on the wellbeing of the other patients at the institute. People plugged into experimental builds of various treatment options, testing out new cutting-edge technology… Maybe even plugged into _Collecon_. Safer builds, of course, with higher security.

                He smiled as the tall, muscular man entered the room with a gentle knock on the door frame. The doctor had once walked in on one of the few moments of intimacy he’d managed to sneak into his treatment schedule, nothing more than a kiss, but one that was deep and hungry enough to be slightly improper. Still, he had simply turned away, making a big show of coughing and pretending that he had seen nothing, but ever since that evening he always knocked and winked at him as he entered the room.

                “Good morning Mr.Katsuki,” He said with a bright smile as he entered the room with a cup and a handful of various medications, “I’m afraid this is the last time you get room service like this. I’m pretty sure Viktor didn’t let you forget it, but today’s the big day.”

                “I bet he didn’t let you forget either,” he said as he took the paper cup of water, downing his typical cocktail of painkillers and various anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medications. Usually, a nurse would’ve been the one to bring him his daily doses, but Dr.Giacometti seemed to have taken his case personally. He didn’t mind, the man was affable enough with his gleaming green eyes and knowing smiles. He’d apparently been one of Viktor’s best friends when they were students in medical school and he had a talent for reading people while making sure that they never knew he was assessing them.

                “You have no idea, it’s like Christmas…” He said with a smile, “and his birthday and free ice cream day all wrapped in one nice, neat little box. Speaking of, your parents managed to bring a lot of your stuff over to the apartment so you know, it’ll actually have a little life in it for once.”

                “Yeah, Viktor mentioned that the accommodations are a bit… morgue-like,” Yuuri said, handing the empty cup back to the doctor, “back when we were in the simulation.”

                Christophe’s face pulled into a tight-lipped smile as he nodded stiffly. It was a response Yuuri was quite used to, it seemed like it put everyone on edge when he talked about the things he’d seen and done in _Collecon_ , especially the things he’d been through once they lost control. Apparently, despite their nervous scrambling, they never got to see exactly what was happening, locked out of the system by the boy who had abandoned them at that point. All they could do was monitor their vital functions and mental patterns, desperately trying to fight against the encryption keys and mutable programs that fought them every step of the way. Apparently, even Phichit and Dr.Celestino from Yuuri’s old alma matter had gotten involved, trying to break through the safeguards that the saboteurs had put in place.

                They still had no idea where Yuri Plisetsky or the man only known as Trickster went. They were probably long gone, on the run. Yuuri figured that sabotaging the system like they did was some sort of criminal offence, so he didn’t blame them for laying low. That being said, he did regret not having been able to talk to them more, despite everything they did. Although he certainly didn’t harbour any fondness for the boys, they had changed his life permanently and seemed like they were intertwined within his very being as a result. In a sense, he felt pity for them, they’d clearly all been flawed, broken humans thrown together in a flurry of emotions and chaos.

                Maybe things would’ve ended differently if they could all just sit down and talk.

                Of course, talking was difficult for Yuuri too, it had taken a while for the function to come back, and even then the damage to his Broca's area had created a sort of stutter, occasional pauses that would break the flow of thought as though he was an outmoded computer, buffering and chugging along slowly on new software as the processes overwhelmed the central processor. Still, besides the occasional break in thought as he forced the words through his lips, it seemed like his brain was amazing in its neuroplasticity, making up for the damage and improving by leaps and bounds.

                It seemed like despite everything, Yuri had been right about the fact that pushing him into such unknown, dangerous territory seemed to have jumpstarted something in his neurones, creating connections that should’ve been impossible. Almost superhuman.

                Almost.

                Viktor’s own mind had gone through a similar process, albeit without the physical damage caused by the accident that had triggered everything. The flap of the butterfly’s wings in Hasetsu Station that had caused a hurricane in Yuuri’s brain, as it were.

                “You should try to rest up. Viktor will be around later with a wheelchair to bring you home, okay Mr.Katsuki?” Christophe said, gently tussling Yuuri’s hair, “It’s almost over.”

 _If only…_ Yuuri thought as he nodded lazily, allowing the heavy, billowing fog of medication to lull him back to sleep, _it could be that simple._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Broca's Area, for those who were curious, is a little node in the front of your brain that helps with speech. When it gets damaged, you can get Broca's (or non-fluent) Aphasia, a condition that makes it difficult to formulate coherent sentences as, although all words used are meaningful, they are difficult for the speaker to connect (this is different from Wernicke's Aphasia, which impacts schematic meanings).
> 
> Yuuri's got damaged in the accident, but since he underwent a startling mutation due to the events of WEH, he's pretty good at dealing with it.


	2. homeward-bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor finally settle into the comfort of home for the first time, and things seem good until spectres of their all too recent past turn up on the doorstep.

                "I really don't see the point of wheeling me around like this, love," Yuuri said as Viktor gently eased him into the wheelchair, "I can walk perfectly fine... well, not perfectly, but well enough."

                The other man smiled warmly as he gently kissed the top of Yuuri's head, nuzzling into the coarse dark waves of his hair. One of the first things Yuuri had asked for was a haircut, as although they'd done their best to keep him clean and shaven while he was under, there had initially been too much delicate machinery to account for when it came to his hair and general area around the top of his head, and as such it had grown out considerably. Viktor had insisted on doing it himself, and surprisingly it hadn't turned into a disaster. Yuuri still had trouble recognising his own visage at twenty-eight though, as it seemed like only yesterday that he had barely entered his twenties. Reconciling with the fact that he was going to be pushing thirty soon was a daunting, strange task that often left him slightly dazed and mildly regretful, mourning the years he had lost as he looked into the slightly older, more tired looking face in the mirror.

                "I know, sweetheart," Viktor murmured softly, "but it's the doctor's orders that you don't put too much stress on your bad leg and muscles yet. Soon we'll be able to start walking together again, I can't wait to show you the neighbourhood: all the little cafés, the park, the walking trails and shops..."

                "I'd like that very much..." Yuuri replied, gently reaching up to stroke Viktor's cheek, "and this time there's no need to worry about walking into an empty void or some killer plants or what have you."

                "Okay you two lovebirds," Christophe said, walking over towards the pair briskly as he handed Viktor an impressive stack of documentation, "you should be clear to go. Here's the general information about your outpatient regiment, along with a list of your prescriptions and appropriate doses. You might not be in the hands of the world's greatest doctor anymore Mr.Katsuki, but Viktor's no slouch either." 

                 Viktor rolled his eyes as Christophe gave him a wink, "as modest as ever... Don't worry, we'll check in for evaluation whenever it's necessary. I’ll make sure he gets all the proper treatments and goes through the procedure as planned."

                His tone was suddenly clipped and professional, belying that stoic passion that had pushed him into the medical field in the first place. Despite the almost clinical nature of his mannerisms, his black mechanical hand never left Yuuri's shoulder, gleaming in the soft white light of the corridor as he gave him a gentle squeeze. 

                Soon, so soon they were going to be home at last.

                It wasn't so much the locale, but rather the opportunity to be allowed to be in love without the distraction of medical procedures, people bustling into the room to hand him pills and take his blood, without the thin veneer of professionalism and clinical detachment, without the scent of antiseptics and the white, white, endlessly white walls. It was the chance to feel the warmth of skin on skin, indulge in tranquil mornings spent simply being with each other, to exist in a gentle cycle of domestic mundanity peppered with warm kisses and strong arms wrapped around each other’s waists, the late-night talks and good mornings, the evenings spent looking at the stars in the sky and the dawns spent watching the sun rise…

                Home with Viktor, the man he loved, a feeling that was as organic as breathing.

                He smiled as Viktor gently pushed the chair over to the elevator, finally allowing him to bid a quiet farewell to the institution that had been his domicile for the past five years…

* * *

 

                Yuuri smiled as they slowly made their way down the hallway towards their shared flat, which was very similar in aesthetic to the sleek, clinical minimalism of the hospital. It was all soft white lights and clean lines, almost as though 1138 Roddenberry Street was some sort strange alien space station. They had, thankfully, given up on the wheelchair after Yuuri’s heated protests, leaving it at the hospital entrance and settling instead on the simple cane which he used to balance as he slowly but surely hobbled down the hall, his heavy steps making resounding echoes on the cool tile. He held Viktor’s hand within his own, happily resting his head on the other man’s shoulder, soaking the warmth through the thick, padded layers of his leather jacket. It reminded him slightly of the first evening they’d spent together in the simulation, resting against each other and drinking in the simple pleasure of human contact.

                “Here we are, love,” Viktor said warmly as he stopped in front of one of the identical doors, number 42. Yuuri felt something of a pang of anticipation as he watched Viktor fumble with a keyring (which Yuuri noted had a cute little poodle charm attached to the multiple jingling keys), “it’s nothing special, but it’s home.”

                “As long as you’re here it’s perfect, Vitya,” Yuuri said, giving Viktor a gentle kiss on the cheek.

                Viktor smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he turned to face Yuuri. Before Yuuri had a chance to open his mouth to ask him what was happening, the other man scooped him up, tucking his arms under Yuuri’s knees and arms, cradling him gently against his strong chest. He felt his face flush with a deep blush, warm and prickly under his cheeks as he yelped slightly in surprise, pressing against Viktor’s body for some sort of support as the other man carried him across the threshold bridal style. Viktor kicked the door shut behind him as he nudged the cane into the entrance hall. He would have to ask him to pick it up for him later…

                “Vitya, what the fuck!?” He squeaked out anxiously, grappling at the other man’s shoulders as Viktor laughed lightly, nuzzling into his hair and parading him into the spacious dwelling. Makkachin barked in mild interest from her position on the living room floor before returning to her very important occupation of squeaking a rubber duck over and over again as she chewed it contentedly. From what he saw of the living room as he was spirited away through it, the space had once been one of those sleek, minimalist and utterly personality-free spaces, almost like a showroom or a photoshoot from a catalogue selling high-end condos. The walls and furniture were mostly white, with pale blue lights illuminating the room. Viktor gently swayed across the hardwood floors as Yuuri caught glimpses of some of his belongings strewn about the space: a poster for an old Japanese B-movie hung on a wall here, a model robot on a shelf pointed at some DVD box sets of _Mystery Science Theatre 3000_ and _Star Trek_ , proof that Viktor had been hard at work preparing the space for them to share together, a melding of the two personalities into a singular reflection of the men who lived there, as mismatched as the aesthetics were. A record was spinning on a turntable, the needle raised as it’s owner had excitedly rushed over to meet him instead of bothering to properly put things away.

                Viktor carried him into the bedroom, gently dropping Yuuri onto the bed and flopping down next to him. His blue eyes twinkled as he laughed, turning to face Yuuri. Yuuri considered pouting and being angry for a while, but elected against it, unable to keep himself from laughing too as he lifted his arm, gently stroking Viktor’s cheek with his gleaming white hand, feeling the warmth of his skin seep into the artificial nerves.

                “So how long did you want to that then?” Yuuri asked, his voice still bouncing with the heady notes of laughter.

                “Ever since I met you, my Yuuri,” Viktor said happily as he brushed his lips against Yuuri’s knuckles, “welcome home.”

                Yuuri smiled as the pair laid in relative silence, still breathless from their bout of laughter, sinking into the soft bedding on the king-sized bed. Yuuri groaned mildly as he breathed in the lavender scent of laundry detergent, noticing just what he was lying on.

                “You brought the Star Wars blankets in here?” Yuuri asked as he clicked his tongue, “you do realise I’ve had these since I was like, thirteen right… like they’ve seen some shit.”

                “Yuuri, we’ve seen some shit too…” Viktor replied with a roll of his eyes, “besides, god knows I’ve literally had your dick in my mouth so I think we’re past the point of caring about the ravages of puberty on these poor bedsheets.”

                Yuuri felt a warm blush on his cheeks again as he shook his head, trying to chase out the dirty thoughts that were threatening to creep back into the forefront of his consciousness, “you really don’t have to put it that way, Vitya…”

_He’s not allowed to do this to me when he knows I’m still this knackered and gay and thirsty. If I fucking end up tearing a muscle because of some sort of horny idiot move I will never hear the end of it from Dr.Giacometti… not to mention I think the director might have an aneurysm._

                “I’m sorry love, you’re just so adorable when you get flustered…” Viktor said as he leant in and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, “they just help me sleep better when you’re not around. If the knowledge that they’re your wank sheets makes you feel uncomfortable I can put them back in the linen chest…”

                “It’s fine love. I can’t stay mad at you, Vitya…” Yuuri said in a tone of mock irritation as he pulled in closer to his lover, gently pulling the thick leather jacket off his shoulders as he pressed against him once more. He wrapped his arm around his shoulders, creeping his hand into Viktor’s hair, feeling the softness of the fine silvery strands through his fingers. He knew he must’ve felt them a thousand times before, but now that they were finally together in the real world, they felt softer somehow. As though everything was blown out into high definition, everything was tangible. If everything before had been the memory of a sensation, this was the real thing. At first, it had all been incredibly overwhelming, but now he was almost addicted to it, focusing in on the details he otherwise would’ve missed. It almost felt as though he was born once more, experiencing reality for the first time.

                He gently ran his tongue along Viktor’s lower lip as he pressed his lips against his. Viktor parted his lips with a sigh as he deepened the kiss, meeting the other man’s tongue with his own. Yuuri felt a happy, satisfied hum leave his lungs as they kissed, finally unabashed with no fear of interruptions. He felt Viktor pull closer, wrapping his arm around Yuuri’s waist, pressing his soft form against the other man’s more muscular one. Despite the effects of Viktor’s own trip into the world of the subconscious, it seemed like he still mostly retained that athletic body of his, though Yuuri knew this was partially due to  the physiotherapy regimens and partially because he was generally still fairly invested in working out, he couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious. He wasn’t quite as heavy as he had been before he went under, but the man was still kind of _pudgy_.

                He knew Viktor loved it though, as was made obvious by the cool feeling of his artificial hand gently pushing its way under the thin fabric of Yuuri’s t-shirt, kneading at his flesh and running his fingers all over his back.

                He felt his heart flutter as he focused on the warmth and softness of Viktor’s lips, the strong wet tongue against his own, slightly rough as it ran its way around his palette in an exploratory fashion, revelling in the contact. They’d both been hungry for this, for the chance to indulge in physical acts of affection. His hand moved down from Viktor’s head, tracing the elegant line of his neck and his broad shoulders. He felt the irregular surface with his fingertips, gingerly touching the port that had connected him to the _Collecon_ system, a tiny mechanical divot at the base of his skull, kept shut by a tiny silicone flap that when pushed aside, allowed him to connect the various necessary cables to his brainstem. He knew he had a similar set up on the back of his own neck as well, hidden under his dark hair. He felt himself shudder slightly, vaguely uncomfortable at the fact that he’d been so thoroughly changed despite himself, a strange construct of machine and organic flesh.

_If anyone asked me what I was going to be at twenty-eight, ‘a cyborg’ wouldn’t have been my first answer._

                Viktor pulled away softly, his eyes warm and gentle under his long lashes, his soft lips quirked in a warm smile as he gently rubbed Yuuri’s back. He rested his forehead against Yuuri as he sighed contentedly. Yuuri wanted to take this moment and keep it in his pocket forever.

                “I’ll make it up to you love, how about some take out?” Viktor asked softly, his eyes gleaming with happiness and a slightly impish streak, “I know I’m supposed to be your personal _naughty nurse_ now but I figure you deserve a cheat day after being on the _diet_ for so long.”

                “Letting me go for the carbs?” Yuuri said with a smirk, “you really are a naughty nurse. Tisk tisk, Chris would disapprove.”

                “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him,” Viktor laughed, “there’s a great place nearby, you’ll love it.”

                “Mmm, fair enough.” Yuuri said after a long pause, putting a finger to his lips as he made a big show of thinking about it even though he had already accepted the proposal the moment it was brought up, “I trust your decision, _doctor_.”

                “I’ll go get my phone and order, alright babe?” Viktor said as he gently sat up on the edge of the bed, “I’ll be right back.”

               Yuuri nodded as he watched Viktor go, letting his eyes sweep over the other man’s figure appreciatively. He licked his lower lip, hoping that he would soon be good enough to engage in more strenuous intimate activity soon.

               He looked over to the curtains, bright red, but larger than the ones he had back on his old windows. He smiled, knowing that his mother had probably insisted on it, probably way before Yuuri had even stirred. Apparently, they’d already gotten quite close to Viktor even though they still didn’t quite know the depths of their relationship quite yet. That was a discussion for another time, a time when his discussions with them still weren’t tinged with their fear of losing him again, lurking under the warmth and relief that they all collectively felt when the entire Katsuki clan got together, crowding in that tiny hospital room.

               Viktor returned happily, Makkachin on his heels as he rested the shiny black cane on the bedside table so Yuuri could access it easily. The three of them cuddled up on the bed, Yuuri stroking the dog’s curly coat as she rested her muzzle under his left palm, Viktor playing with a strand of Yuuri’s dark hair as they rested their heads against each other.

               It was almost domestic, a shy awkward computer technician, a beautiful professional doctor and their dog. Sure, the doctor and the computer geek were cyborgs who had somehow survived being dragged through a fucked-up dreamland, one of whom had apparently died at some point and the other had brought him back to life… but the dog was still, nonetheless, just a dog and that meant something.

               After a while, Yuuri heard a knock on the door. He was about to ask Viktor to get it but realised that his boyfriend had fallen asleep, his face calm and serene as he seemed to have dozed off peacefully for the first time in forever. Yuuri slowly reached over to his cane, grabbing it tightly and stabilising his shaky limbs as he slowly but surely rose to his feet. He walked over to the door, his knees trembling slightly with each step, but still moving forwards regardless of the difficulty it posed.

               He opened the door, expecting a delivery person, but instead seeing two faces that he never expected to see again. Faces that were incredibly familiar despite the fact that he had never seen them with his own two eyes before. Two figures, one leaning against the other as they stood in the threshold.

               “Hello, Katsuki-Senpai…” The taller of the two boys said, his voice distorted and mechanical as it carried through the empty hall, “we need your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWW GEEZ, JUST WHEN THINGS WERE GOING TO BE GOING BACK TO _NORMAL_.


	3. Housecalls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor meet some familiar faces from the past and Dr.Nikiforov makes a housecall.

                Yuuri stood in wide-eyed shock as he looked at the two boys standing in the entry way, his mouth hanging open in surprise as he tried to come to grips with the situation.

                The first of the two was tall and gangly, as though he had once been a small and diminutive person but he’d been scaled up poorly using a photo editing program by someone who wasn’t quite sure how to handle proportions properly, his hands and feet looking slightly too large on slender limbs. His hair was still a mess of dirty blonde with a crest of red bangs flopping onto his forehead, asymmetrical and choppy, but with other colours thrown into the mix as well. His face was partially obscured by a familiar black-tinted plastic respirator mask that Yuuri knew had a voice-changing apparatus inside, as well as a large pair of pink-tinted shades with bright LEDs built into the frames. He wore an oversized black hoodie pulled over his head, large and baggy on his thin frame, the sleeve rolled up to reveal the equally familiar Nintendo Powerglove which adorned his left hand, modified to contain a small portable computer, touch screen and various other applications along the outmoded plastic numerical keypad. His brows were quirked with an expression of worry as he supported the second figure with his shoulder.

                Leaning on him was another boy, his blonde hair long and limp as it hung over his face like a bedraggled curtain. He was still smaller, more delicate, almost malnourished and stunted looking. His chest was heaving with laboured breaths as he lifted his head, his bottle-green eyes were glassy and unfocused, lined darkly with a black and white liner in strange, bold geometric patterns. His lips were parted as though he wanted to speak but immediately made way to gritted teeth and wincing. He wore a white doctor’s coat over what looked like a tight-fitting band shirt of some sort and ripped plaid leggings, a strange juxtaposition of professional attire and streetwear. However, what drew Yuuri’s attention and anxiety was the splatter of blood on his upper arm, partially dried in a reddish-brown spray. The carnage seemed to have spread onto the both of them, dotting them with dark crimson.

                “Vitya…” He called weakly as he stepped aside to let the strange pair into the entrance, trying and failing to help the taller man stabilise his injured companion, resulting in the both of them slumping against the wall pathetically.

                Anima and Trickster had made their return, and Yuuri had no idea why. The only thing he knew was that something had gone terribly wrong and they needed his help.

                Viktor lazily crossed the living room through the small annexed kitchen, mumbling something in Russian and rubbing his tired eyes in an almost childlike manner. He stopped as he laid his eyes on the scene before him, freezing in his tracks. Yuuri glanced helplessly at him as he jerked his head towards the bloodied young man, non-verbally begging him to help.

                Viktor stepped forwards cautiously, gently picking up the boy much like he’d picked up Yuuri earlier, although there was no warmth or affection in his cold eyes. The blonde stirred in his arms, muttering softly, an incoherent slurring of syllables Yuuri couldn’t understand as he flopped weakly in Viktor's arms like a ragdoll. He turned to Trickster, seeking any form of explanation, something, anything to shed some light on the situation as they followed Viktor into the living room, where he had pulled out the sofa-bed and laid the younger man down.

                “He got shot for real.” The nervous looking boy explained, hesitating as he cast his eyes to the ground, “I panicked. I knew you guys were here so I brought him because I didn't know where else to bring him. He managed to get the bullet out of his bicep before the shock set in, I tried to make a tourniquet but it didn’t work out too well… We really fucked that one up.”

                “You,” Viktor barked at Trickster, his voice dark and serious, “go to the bathroom. In the cabinet behind the mirror, there’s a first aid kit, it should have enough material in it to rudimentarily clean and dress his wound. Hurry.”

                The young man nodded, his hood flying off and revealing more of the multicoloured mop of hair atop his head. He scampered towards the bathroom, his movements almost frenetic as Yuuri joined his boyfriend next to the blonde.

                “Is he stable?” He asked as he helped Viktor slowly peel away the layers of clothing, revealing the messy wound underneath. This was nothing like the clean, almost surgical holes that had been torn through his digital avatar. This bullet hole was dirty with dried, clotted blood and torn skin, clearly damaged further by frantic attempts to dig the intruding metal out of his skin. He gently propped a pillow under the boy’s arm as Viktor slowly pulled a throw blanket over his lower body to stave off any shock response.

                “Yeah, it looks like it was just superficial. Little idiot probably fucking did more damage trying to dig it out. It doesn’t look like he accidentally fucked up any of his blood vessels, but there’s not much we can do without deeper medical examination,” Viktor muttered as he looked at the area, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

                Trickster returned, anxiously handing the white plastic case to Viktor. Viktor pulled out a pair of sterile latex gloves, slipping them onto his arms as he gently worked an antiseptic solution to the affected area, dabbing at it with clean white gauze which soon became stained in deep red. He worked quietly, his hands deft and precise as he did. Yuuri watched him work as he irrigated the wound, washing away the traces of blood and gore, muttering under his breath as the boy stirred slightly, quietly whimpering every time Viktor dug more of the soft material into his raw-looking open injury, disinfecting and draining it of any potential irritants or infectious material. Eventually, after a seemingly endless amount of time had passed, Viktor taped down multiple layers of thick, sterile gauze over the wound, covering it with a pressure bandage, finishing his meticulous chore.

                “He’ll live, unfortunately.” Viktor said coolly, glaring at the blonde, “I would suggest going to the hospital to make sure he hasn’t broken anything or damaged any blood vessels. Of course, I would also suggest fucking off but you know… I’m pretty sure you don’t want to go to jail even though you literally tried to kill us.”

                “I didn’t…” Trickster said, his voice significantly chirpier as he slipped back into the living room, large takeout bags in his arms. He plopped them on the ground as he sat on the corner of the coffee table, crossing his long legs as he cocked his head from side to side, observing the results of the impromptu medical intervention, “I just wanted to help Yuuri-senpai out of there, and you know it kind of indirectly worked so you’re welcome, Dr.McDreamy… Also thanks for saving our collective son there.”

                “By almost killing us, yes,” Viktor snapped, “ _Thank you so much_ for that. I’ve already told Yura this, but gamble with your own life next time, okay kid? Your tourniquet could’ve ended up with this little moron losing his arm… You’re both incredibly lucky, incredibly stupid and incredibly unwelcome here.”

                “Wow, rude. You really don’t need more salt, Doc because I’m sure there’s plenty of msg in the food here and your sodium levels are through the roof, wwww.” The boy replied as he swayed from left to right, looking like a strangely energised human executive desk toy. It was slightly odd how his demeanour had returned to his carefree, disaffected state but Yuuri figured that might be his means to cope with the distress the current situation was causing him.

                “Why are you here anyway, Trickster…” Yuuri asked, stepping in between the two in case Viktor got agitated enough to swing at the boy. He was certain it wouldn’t happen, but just in case he figured he should run interference, “you were gone for so long. Naturally, it would be best for both of you to stay away from us, right?”

                “Always so smart, Katsuki-senpai,” The boy smiled behind the dark, tinted plastic of his mask, “it would be best for us to stay away from the scene of our crimes, yes, but our mission brings us back here. Like I said, we really need your help…”

                “My help?” Yuuri frowned, furrowing his brows as he asked. He looked into the other boy’s eyes curiously as he watched him. Despite the various applications he was hiding behind, his body language was earnest and open, energetic and slightly playful, as though the thought of finally being reunited with Yuuri in real life was almost too much for him to handle, and now that the crisis involving Dr.Plisetsky seemed to have passed, he had given himself up to the energy and emotions he was feeling. In a sense, he was almost like an overgrown kid. He was certain that the youthful exuberance would’ve been endearing if it didn’t belong to the boy who had thrust him into a chaotic nightmare of a dreamscape.

                Trickster nodded enthusiastically, rubbing his hands as he rocked back and forth on the smooth black tabletop, “yes. This is gonna be so bitchin’… so you know how we worked to get you out of _Collecon_? Well, once that was over with, we decided that the next course of action should be to catch the asshole who put you in there in the first place, and not the patsy that took the fall, mind you...”

                Viktor’s blue eyes narrowed as he spoke again, “the patsy? You mean to say, provided I believe you and don’t call the police, that the person they arrested isn’t the culprit behind the Hasetsu Station Incident?”

                Trickster nodded again, clapping his hands together, “ten points to Doctor Vik. He was involved sure, but as we dug into this whole sitch we found things that didn’t add up… like how he was a perfectly-adjusted normal lawyer with an _American dream, 2.5 kids and a white picket fence_ kind of life until roughly one month before he decided to blow up that rail line. Coincidentally, he’d stumbled across something that no one bothered mentioning in any of the reports, mostly because they thought it was a weird urban legend or the incoherent ramblings of a madman.”

                “You mean the _mind alteration initiative_?” Viktor asked tentatively in a gravelly tone, cocking his head to the side as he furrowed his brows, crossing his powerful arms over his chest, “I thought they established it as a paranoid delusion, the government beaming thoughts into his brain or whatever.”

                “True, but all of us know how machines can be used to alter the mind, right? How you can connect the binary nature of human thought with the binary nature of computer code…” The boy continued, his eyes suddenly quite hard and serious, the playful gleam was gone as he lowered his voice to an almost mournfully quiet tone, “well, someone else clearly clued in on that, maybe they read Katsuki-senpai’s work, maybe not, but it’s not to be discounted as a possibility.”

                Yuuri nodded as he bit his lip nervously, his eyes flittering to the floor as his mind came alive with the implications of what the younger man was saying. Someone else had potentially gotten their hands on his thesis and applied it in some sick way, some sick terrible way that had ruined countless lives and snuffed out countless more. He felt a cold shiver run down his spine…

                _Perhaps they read Katsuki-senpai’s work…_

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud cough from the couch. The blonde stirred once more, his eyes fluttering open as he choked out a single question in a strained voice...

                _“Do you know about fun.hou.se?”_

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of fudged some of the details about first aid re: bullet wounds. Though the basic procedure was gleaned through research on first-aid in these situations, you should absolutely go to the hospital to make sure you're not bleeding internally or dealing with broken bones/ blood vessels. 
> 
> The tourniquet and digging out the bullet are absolute NO NOs unless you know what you're doing in the case of the former and absolutely NOT in the later (because it might be stopping an artery and removing it would kill you). Generally, things that are in should stay in, things that are out should stay out if you're not a pro. Don't take your first aid advice from fanfiction kids!
> 
> Viktor probably keeps a more complete first aid kit because he's probably a little paranoid and a bit of a mother-hen type. Yuri and Minami are decked out in dazzle camouflage to confuse facial recognition software, which gives you the added benefit of looking like a cyberpunk character! 
> 
> also consider this a disclaimer that not all persons with delusions/ paranoia are violent or dangerous, I know it sounds silly but considering I'm one of those people who are prone to such things I figured it would be nice to include this aside! :>


	4. Funhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody has a nice meal and they discuss the ramifications of the situation they're in.

                Yuuri turned to face the boy, his eyes were still bleary as he trembled slightly. Viktor sighed, pulling up the throw blanket, gently tucking it over his chest, making sure the injured arm was still stable and elevated.

                “You need to rest,” Viktor said bluntly as he shook his head, “your body is still in shock. Your friend can explain if he needs to… But first, eat. I’m glad I ordered enough for leftovers, go get some chairs from the dining room."

                The group sat quietly in the living room, gathered in the space with Trickster on the coffee table, Yuuri and Viktor on chairs dragged in from the kitchen and Yuri lying on the sofa. He knew, deep down, that the fact that Viktor hadn’t thrown them back out was his way of caring, even though he knew that neither of them was entitled to his forgiveness. Maybe he didn’t even forgive them, but he was, overall, the kind of person who simply set aside personal grievances when worse came to worse.

                It was admirable.

                He picked at the plastic take out container, filled with an incredibly familiar appetising looking combination of pork and rice. He took a tentative bite and was instantly hit with a wave of overwhelming nostalgia squeezing his chest as though it were a vice on his heart. He would recognise the flavour instantly, it simultaneously felt as though he had only had it yesterday and as though he had missed the taste for years.

                “Where did you get this from, Vitya?” He asked, furrowing his brow as he shuffled the food around on his fork again, uncertain about what emotion this particular stimulus had dragged out of him. It was something akin to homesickness, and yet buoyant and warm as well, an emotional oxymoron of sorts.

                “I was going to surprise you,” Viktor replied with a thin smile, still obviously perturbed at the current company, “it’s from Mari’s. She opened up her own place nearby, we kept it from you because we figured it would be a nice homecoming present. It’s your mother’s recipe and everything, and I must admit you heavily undersold it the first time you mentioned her cooking in the simulation.”

                Yuuri nodded as he chewed, allowing the flavour to linger on his pallet. It was not entirely the same as the one he’d grown up with, but he had to admit that it was incredibly close. There was something that pulled at his heart when he thought about how far things had come while he was gone. It was a strange mixture of deep pathos and pride, a confusing mixture that swirled in his mind and made his chest feel tight. In a sense, he knew that she was strong and had managed to make a life for herself despite the hardships she’d undergone and the heartache his absence had left, but he also couldn’t help but regret that he wasn’t part of that new chapter, that he’d missed those stepping stones.

                 _Kind of a lousy big brother, aren’t you? Your sister opens her own business and becomes an entrepreneur and you take a five-year kip. Classic._

                “How long?” He muttered after swallowing. The sentence felt strangely heavy, stunted on his tongue as he spoke. It wasn’t unusual, but the half-second pauses in his thoughts were vaguely frustrating. He felt outmoded, like a windows 9x machine trying to run modern software with all the glitches and bugs that would entail.

                _So much for ‘never obsolete’, Katsuki._

                “It wasn’t too long after the accident…” Viktor said, his eyes hardening and his voice tightening at the mention of the incident. Despite everything, it was clear that mentioning it was still incredibly difficult. “She’s been really busy, it’s a massive success. I can see why, after all, I think that if I wasn’t careful enough I could probably get chemically addicted to this.”

                 “I mean, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. I grew up on it and look how I turned out.” Yuuri said with a weak smile as he set down his container and gently rested his hand atop his lover's. His skin was warm and soft under his touch, comforting, radiant and organic. A constant that never really changed despite the chaos of the real world and the ceaseless movement of time. 

                No matter what, he could count on the universal constant that was Viktor Nikiforov.

                And for that he was thankful.

                “I wish I turned out half as good, to be honest.” Viktor sighed softly, his expression softening as he leaned into the touch, resting his head on Yuuri’s shoulder, his face gently nesting into the crook of his neck as he spoke, “you should be kinder to yourself love, you’re incredible.”

                Yuuri would’ve been content to spend the rest of his life like this, slowly twining his fingers through the soft, silvery strands of Viktor’s hair as they rested against each other, listening to the soft rhythm of their collective breathing and the quiet scratching of the record player spinning into the void.

                That, and the vaguely mechanical, musical giggling of the boy rocking back and forth on the table.

                “You two are adorable,” Trickster cooed, “like, romantic comedy, Hallmark movie of the week adorable. I hope I can be as fucking cute when I’m old as shit.”

                “Thanks...” Viktor replied coolly, “remind me again why I didn’t throw you out into the hall. I mean, you don’t have any bullet wounds so the option is still open…”

                “Because we were having a delightful meal as a fucking family for once, right Katsuki senpai?” The boy said, flashing a bright grin from behind the tinted plastic of his facial appliance. His mannerisms were still strangely animated, as though he was less human and more like a strange, quirky cartoon character. Then again, Yuuri figured that the impression may very well be caused by the multicoloured criniere of hair sticking out from every angle.

                Even if the kid hadn’t shoved them into what was effectively life in a pleasant screensaver, he was undeniably _weird_. It felt strangely divorced from the person on the train, the one who was doubtful and remorseful for his actions.

                “Trickster, what’s this funhouse thing?” Yuuri asked tentatively, “not that I doubt that you wouldn’t just pop by for a friendly visit, but those don’t usually involve casual first aid…”

                Sure enough, that seemed to pierce through the playful put on. Immediately, the boy’s face broke into something more serious, the familiar air of a man who didn’t have the answers to a particularly challenging puzzle, a trademark furrow of the brow betraying uncertainty and an innate frustration at the helplessness of not knowing.

                It was like a looking glass, in a strange sense.

                “Man, you really know how to kill a mood, senpai,” Trickster said with an ungodly digitised sigh. “Hold onto your butts.”

                The boy reached into one of the seemingly bottomless pockets of the oversized hoodie, pulling out a simple black HDMI connection cable, walking over to the television with a swing in his hip. He ran the cable from the modified computer on his wrist, illuminating the room with an enlarged display.

                “Right, so fun.hou.se…” He started with another trilling sigh, “where to begin. So, as you can see, entering this address brings up a 404 page, right? Nothing weird here, there are like, a million of these badboys on the world wide web. If that were it, we could all go home and not get shot, all good. All gravy.”

                Sure enough, the blank page seemed benign. One that Yuuri himself had seen countless times in his life. A white stretch of digital nothing, sending a strange shudder down his spine as it brought back memories of the snowy nothingness that had surrounded the digital facsimile of the city.

                “Once a day, however, that’s not what you see.” The boy continued, pulling up an archived cache with a deft movement of his fingers on the numeric keypad. The blank white stretch was replaced with a black backdrop, white text burning into the screen, “It’s randomised every day, and seems individual for every IP address which makes life for my oscillating VPN fun, ya know…”

                A single question.

                _Do You Want To See Something Weird?  
                ENTER FUN.HOU.SE_

“Okay, so spooky internet ghost story,” Yuuri said with a frown. “Someone’s weird ARG, I’m not sure what this has to do with everything…”

                “Honestly, same here,” The boy replied with a bitter grin. The bitterness seemed strangely out of place on his face as he continued speaking, “but it has everything to do with it… I’m sure of it. I can’t show you, but that link shows you something hella weird. I haven’t gotten it to work for me, but…”

                “So a weird game,” Viktor cut in sharply, “someone’s playing a game and you’re dragging us into it. No offense, but I’m very, very tired of being dragged into your games.”

                “It’s not a game if there’s no winner, Doctor,” the boy said as he shook his head, “I wouldn’t come to you with so little to go on if something didn’t come up.”

                “Come up?” Yuuri asked, his brow quirking as he did.

                “Yeah, so you know Baphomet?” Trickster asked, his smile tightening almost unnaturally at the corners, a strange twitch pulling at his facial muscles. Nerves, fear, anxiety.

                The name had vaguely struck him as familiar. Something he probably heard of before going under, but not quite with the familiarity that Trickster exhibited…

                “Wasn’t he one of those hacktivist kids?” Viktor replied before Yuuri had the chance to say anything.

                “Yeah, kind of a divisive figure, you know. Most people didn’t quite dig how public he was about everything, but he was good at hiding his footprints. Most everyone knew was that he was based out of China, but then again we only really assumed that because one time his momma came to bitch him out in a skype call…” Trickster said with a nod, pulling up yet another web page on the numeric keyboard.

                It was a simple page with a cute cartoon goat on a banner, leading to a series of blog posts and updates. Almost cute, if one didn’t realise that there probably were a ton of national secrets and confidential corporate memos spread amongst the posts about getting Starbucks.

                “That’s what it looked like a few days ago, pretty normal, right?” Trickster said slowly, “I mean, as normal as this sort of thing gets anyway… This is what it looks like now.”

                Yuuri’s eyes widened as the display changed from the archived page to a simple black one, white text burning into the background like a scar in the screen.

 _DO YOU WANT TO SEE SOMETHING WEIRD TOO?_  
                I SEE!  
                VISIT FUN.HOU.SE TODAY FOR FUN PRIZE!

                “Cool.” Viktor said with a sigh, “more weird messages on computer screens. Maybe you and the funhouse guy would get along since you both love cryptic bullshit messages. You could start a club for fans of pointless bullshit riddles. Get matching t-shirts. Have a national bullshit day.”

                “Anyway…” Trickster replied with a pointed roll of his eyes, “ _personal feelings_ aside, the point is that something weird happened to that guy and I have no doubt in my mind that this and the Hasetsu Station incident are connected.”

                “And why do you think that?” Viktor responded, his hand curling into a tight fist under Yuuri’s, “no offense, but maybe your pal is having a laugh, and I would really rather you not drag us back into your little games… you might want to play _Wargames_ or _Hackers_ or whatever, but I would rather not risk you damaging Yuuri any more than you already have.”

                “I’m sure…” Yuri slurred hazily from the sofa, his eyes still glazed over as he glanced into Viktor’s icy blue eyes, The geometric patterns on his face smeared by sweat and tears, “because that fucker Baphomet looked just like the bomber did when he shot my fucking arm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, if you don't think Viktor references cheesy 80s and 90s movies on a constant basis then you'd be wrong.  
> Also yeah, in this one Yuuri's the big brother, not much of a set up but that was the payoff for that point I introduced waaaaay back when in WEH. :>


End file.
